Unto Death
by muppethands
Summary: Killed when Elsa struck her with her powers when they were children, Anna's come back as an undead wight roaming the castle halls, knocking on doors and calling her sister out to play.
1. Chapter 1

_ Tick, tock._

_ Tick, tock._

Elsa curled up in her bed, wide awake and trembling under the blankets. She listened to the sound of the pendulum swinging, back and forth, back and forth, counting down the minutes until 1:37 AM. The time _that night _everything had gone wrong.

_ Tick, tock._

The clock chimed. It was 1:30. Just a few more minutes. Elsa wished she could take the spare time to run to her parents' room and beg to sleep with them, trying to convince them she needed the reassurance. But they'd tell her she was too old to old for such things, that she had to keep trying to move on from the recent tragedy, and send her back to her room. Then there was too much of a chance she'd be out in the halls when 1:37 struck.

When that _thing _arrived.

So all Elsa could do was check and double check that her bedroom door was locked tight. She pushed a chair in front of the door as well, because sometimes the lock didn't hold and then all she could do when the thing came in was scream and scream and pray her parents would hear and come running.

_ Tick, tock._

1:34.

The eight-year-old curled up tighter, drawing her blankets up to her chin. Maybe it wouldn't come tonight. Sometimes it didn't, but Elsa was so afraid of the night now she'd taken to wearing her gloves to bed as well, lest she cover her room in frost inadvertently out of sheer terror.

_ "It's part of her coping process," _she'd heard her mother tell her father once. _"She's still having the bad nightmares about...you know. If she's scared and needs to wear the gloves to bed, we should let her. It'll pass eventually."_

1:36.

Please, Elsa thought. Don't come, don't come.

1:37.

Don'tcomedon'tcomedon'tcomedon'tcome-

There was a knock on the door.

Elsa held her breath. Maybe it was one of her parents coming to check on her, just in case. It was a tiny hope, but she clung to it regardless, until...

_ "Do you wanna build a snowman?"_

Her breathing hitched. Elsa suppressed a whimper and pulled her coverlet over her head. Don't let it know you're here, she thought desperately. It'll go away.

_ "Elsa?"_

"Go away, go away," the princess whispered as quietly as possible. "Leave me alone, go away..."

_ "Come on, let's go and play!"_

The doorknob rattled and Elsa felt the temperature in her room drop. The cold didn't bother her, of course, but it sent a stab of terror through her heart.

_ "I ever see you anymore!"_

"Leave me alone," Elsa half sobbed.

The voice on the other side of the door was high and childish, but it was bone-chillingly cold and echoed eerily in the silence. It was also achingly familiar, but at this point Elsa was sure she never wanted to hear it again.

She longed for her sister back, but not like this.

_ "Why won't you play with me, Elsa?"_

Cracking her eyes open, Elsa saw a tendril of ice creeping under the door and cringed. If it managed to unlock the door, would it be able to shove aside the armchair placed in front of it? Elsa herself could barely move it, and it had taken a painful amount of effort to get it where she wanted. The chair was her lifeline, her last hope, and she didn't know what she would do if this line of defense failed her.

_ "Come out the door, Elsa." _The voice took on a singsong quality and the rattling intensified.

"Stop it!"

The lock clicked.

There was a long beat of agonizing silence, and Elsa could hear her heart pounding. The door opened half an inch, but coudn't go any further with the chair in the way. Elsa allowed herself a small sigh of relief. The moment ended abruptly, however, when there came a heavy barrage of loud pounds against the wood. The sound of a small child standing on the other side, angrily banging its fists.

_ "Elsa! ELSA!" _the voice screamed_. "It's me, Anna! Your sister! Let me in!"_

Unable to take it anymore, Elsa shot up in bed and shrieked, "You're not Anna, you're _not_! Go away!"

_ "I am Anna! I wanna play! Let me in!" _

"YOU'RE NOT ANNA!" Elsa choked, sobs rising rapidly in her throat. "ANNA'S DEAD!"

The child pounding on the door continued its tantrum. _"I'm Anna! Anna! Anna! Anna!"_

"YOU'RE DEAD!"

_ "ANNA! ANNA! ANNA! ANNA! ANNA!"_

_ "GO AWAY!"_

_ "LET ME IN!"_

Elsa put her hands to her ears and screamed.

The pounding and echoing cries of "_Anna_!" cut off suddenly as footsteps came thundering down the hall. A moment later, the chair in front of the door was shoved aside as Elsa's father forced his way in, accompanied by her mother. Both looked frantic, and rushed forward at the sight of their daughter.

Elsa flung herself into her parents' arms and let out a hysterical wail, weeping into the king's nightshirt.

"Again?" the queen asked, stroking her pale hair. Too distraught to speak, Elsa nodded, hiccuping.

"It's worse tonight than usual," the king muttered to his wife over Elsa's head.

"We need to do something."

"But what? What can we do about night terrors like this?"

The queen bit her lip uncertainly. "Maybe...we ought to try the trolls again?"

"No," the king replied immediately, setting his jaw. "Considering how they failed to 'help' us last time."

"Last time was different. There wasn't anything anyone could have done." The queen spoke in a tremulous voice, but was composed enough to continue. "Maybe they could do something about nightmares."

"I told you." Elsa recovered enough to interrupt. "I'm not dreaming. She's really coming after me, Mama! It was my fault and now...!" Her eyes welled up with tears again and she took a shuddering breath.

"Shh, nothing was your fault," the queen soothed. "Nobody's coming after you, dear. You have reactionary stress because of the accident, like the doctor said. You're convinced you're seeing things."

"I'm not seeing things!" the little girl insisted. "I-I mean, I am, but she's real!"

"Perhaps it's this room," the king said, glancing around. "Elsa and Anna used to share it together. It might be having a negative influence.

Having no other solution in mind, the monarchs decided to move their remaining daughtre to a smaller room in another wing of the castle. The room was closer to theirs, which they hoped would provide some added security.

Elsa wasn't as hopeful or expectant, but it was better than nothing. Maybe the terrible thing with her sister's face and voice was attracted to places Anna had been familiar with. The wing her new room was in was an area they'd rarely ever ventured into whilst playing together, so maybe if it couldn't find her again it would give up for good.

But the small, fearful, rational part of her conscience told her that it was only a matter of time before the knocks came again.

And nearly a month after the move, they did.

_ "Elsa~! Do you wanna build a snowman?"_

* * *

><p><strong>AN:**

** I saw Frozen three times. I'm very pleased with it. Credit for this concept goes to tumblr users NipahDubs and typette. There's a link to my blog on my profile page, and once you're there search 'personal' and you'll know the post when you see it. **

** I might continue this, I might not. I have a lot of ideas for a plot spanning the rest of the movie if anyone wants me to, though.**

** Thank you for reading and please review!**


	2. Chapter 2

The princess of Arendelle, Kai decided, was definitely a strange one. Not that he could blame her, he supposed. Princess Elsa had taken the death of her sister harder than anyone in the castle and that coupled with being cooped up by her parents would be enough to turn any child a bit wonky.

It was a shame, Kai thought whenever the subject rose up in his mind. The princesses had been closer than any siblings he'd ever seen. They'd always be together. But after Princess Anna had fallen terribly ill four months ago and died before her parents managed to get her to a doctor, Princess Elsa had withdrawn. Kai sighed. The whole castle had withdrawn after that. Most of the staff had been let go, the gates closed, and though the king and queen were trying to maintain brave faces, Kai and the remaining servants agreed it was clear the recent tragedy was taking a harsh toll on their rulers. Kai and his wife Gerda had worked in the castle for nearly thirty years, but he couldn't remember such a somber cloud hanging over the place as this.

The older man sighed again and returned to his duties, telling himself he didn't have time to brood. Since the castle staff was now drastically reduced, chores had to be spread out among the remaining handful. It had crossed his mind that perhaps the library needed reorganizing, so that was what he set about doing.

He'd been at it for an hour or so, clearing up clutter and reshelving misplaced books, when he felt the tiniest of tugs on his sleeve. Kai looked down, and was startled to see a familiar pair of somber blue eyes gazing back.

Princess Elsa released his sleeve quickly, folding her gloved hands behind her back.

"I'm sorry," she said, in a tone far too flat and joyless for any nine-year-old. "I hate to bother you, but..."

"It's no bother at all, Your Highness," Kai replied cordially, bowing. "Can I help you with something?"

After a moment's hesitation, the princess nodded. "Yes please, if it isn't too much trouble."

"Of course it isn't. What do you need?"

"Do you know if there are any books about...um, ghosts and things in here?"

Everyone knew about Princess Elsa's nightmares. Kai felt a sharp stab of pity.

"I believe there is a small section," he said. "I just finished cleaning it a few minutes ago, in fact."

He led her over to the narrow shelves in a corner that housed the library's scant supernatural and spiritual books. Princess Elsa thanked him in such a way that clearly told him she'd like to be left alone, and Kai bowed once more and took his leave.

He shook his head as he left. What terrible, terrible shame.

* * *

><p>Elsa was on a mission. If she couldn't get 'Anna' to leave her alone by screaming and running, maybe she could find out exactly what the thing was and if there was a way to be rid of it. Though initially disappointed with the rather pathetic collection of books in the section, she managed to amass a decent pile of ones that looked promising and began to pore over them, hoping to find an answer, or at least something helpful.<p>

One book told of specters and ghosts, plain and straight, but the things it described were just harmless apparitions. All they seemed to do was show up, translucent, for a few moments before vanishing again. Elsa cast this book aside; the few times she'd laid eyes on her nightly terror it had looked very solid, and of course there was the knocking and banging on her door. She'd used the word _ghost _with Kai, but that was so she didn't startle him by asking about demons and any related ilk. Those were the only two descriptions she could think of, and she used the less threatening one. Hopefully it got her somewhere, so she could find something more specific.

The next book described poltergeists, which were a bit closer but still not quite there. They were too invisible, too impersonal. Zombies raised by necromancers were too stupid, and then it turned out demons were typically the type of red, scaly beings that crawled out of Hell. Nothing particularly close to her problem.

Elsa grew frustrated. Geometry and architecture were more her speed, not (ironically) magics and the supernatural and bookwork in general. She was nearing the end of both her pile and her wits when a word finally caught her eye.

_Wight_.

According to the faded paragraph, the word _wight _had many meanings, but the most commonly accepted one was a corpse possessed by a rotting piece of its former soul. Other general definitions, from a linguistic standpoint, were "small person", "unpleasant person", and even "girl".

Elsa's mouth went dry.

_ A dead body possessed by a fragmented soul?_

There was an illustration of the creature as well, an ashen-faced figure with rotting black hands and ice cold eyes, its mouth stretched open in an eternal scream. It looked eerily similar to the child pounding on Elsa's door. She stared at the picture in horror.

"That means...it really is her," she realized. "That thing really is Anna, then."

Her sister's real corpse, come back to play.

The knowledge did not make the situation any better, for there was no description in the book of how to kill a wight. In fact, it made a point that as walking cadavers, they were impervious to physical attack. It wasn't some exorcisable demon or spectre coming to punish Elsa for what she had done, it was her own little sister returning from the grave to torment her. A persistent form of revenge that was going to drive her insane, provided the wight didn't outright kill her itself if it caught her.

Elsa shoved the book away, suddenly feeling very cold, though she knew logically she shouldn't. An intense feeling of panic rose up like bile and despite her gloves and best efforts to contain her powers, frost was beginning to cover her chair and table. It spread across the floor, onto books, crawling up shelves and spiking inwards on the terrified little girl curled up in the center.

That was how her parents found her thirty minutes later, trembling uncontrollably and whispering "I'm sorry," over and over to herself.

* * *

><p><strong>AN:**

**To be honest I was probably going to continue even if nobody voted for it. This chapter is just filler, but the story will span from several months after Anna's death (in the space between this chapter and the last, Elsa turned nine) up to the actual events of the movie.**

**I'm taking bets on what you guys think will happen. How do you suppose the story will change? I'll give a prize to the person who was closest by the end. **

**Thank you for reading and please review!**


	3. Chapter 3

"Conceal, don't feel" became the constant mantra for Elsa's life. Her training to become the eventual queen of Arendelle began when she turned ten, and to be an efficient monarch she couldn't have any problem with her cursed powers. What had happened to Anna couldn't be allowed to happen to anyone else, after all, let alone an entire country.

Her father had been very harsh in making that point, even using Anna as an example.

"It can't happen again, Elsa," he told her sharply. He was becoming more and more strict with her, though she'd stopped telling her parents about the appearances of the wight. "It just can't. You know this."

"I know," she replied, choking back tears. The look in her father's eyes softened.

"I believe in you."

Do you? Elsa thought. There didn't seem to be as much certainty in his voice as there ought to have been. Regardless, she understood his point, no matter how much it hurt. She was going to be Queen, whether she liked it or not. If she was going to be a good ruler, and eventually get married and produce heirs, she needed to have complete control. And so it began. Her lessons grew difficult, more intense and comprehensive. She was given progressively thicker pairs of gloves. She saw her mother less and less, only at meals and on occasions where she had to observe a queen in her element.

During the day, with her busy schedule, Elsa had less time to worry about the night. However, the wight seemed to make its visits less frequent. This would be a relief to the young princess, except Anna was beginning to extend her reach to daylight hours, and all around the castle.

Books would fly off shelves in the library when nobody was near. The cook found plates smashed on the kitchen floor, with all the cupboards open and utensils scattered about. Fires mysteriously went out. The grand piano in the ballroom would begin playing itself, but no specific melody; more like a child with no knowledge of music was banging excitedly on the keys. And on one occasion, the king and queen would go to their quarters to find every window wide open in the middle of winter, the bedsheets torn off their bed, and their wardrobe tipped over on its side with the contents spilled out.

Rumors began to fly among the castle staff. Whispers of a demon or ghost haunting the royal family and those around them circulated like wildfire, and though none of them would ever ask the king, the servants grew increasingly apprehensive and wanted an exorcism by the bishop to take place. Curiously, the chapel was the only place within the gates to be untouched by the mysterious goings-on.

Elsa wasn't really surprised. Anna had always thought church was boring, and hated the chapel.

But despite the haunting of the castle, it still appeared that the wight only showed itself to Elsa. Or rather, Elsa was the only one who could see or hear it.

"Do you hear that?" she asked Gerda, as the woman tidied her room while Elsa studied.

"Hear what, Your Highness?"

Elsa frowned at the disruptive sound of little feet thumping up and down the hallway. Anna never showed her face during the day, only after dark when no people were around, but Elsa could still easily hear her ruckus. With Gerda or others around, though, it never caused her much fear. As long as she wasn't alone. "Never mind it. It was my imagination."

* * *

><p>The growing of her powers seemed to make things worse. The wight's antics grew worse and the visits in the night became more intense. Elsa was quick to notice the connection, and with the realization came an instilled sense of panic.<p>

"I'm scared," she confessed to her father, when an outburst froze over a whole corner of her room. "It's getting stronger!"

"Getting upset only makes it worse," the king replied with the tone of a stablehand calming a wild horse. He reached towards her, "You have to-"

"No, don't touch me!" Elsa flinched back. "I don't want to hurt you..."

What if she killed her father too? Her mother? What if they came back the same way Anna did? She'd go insane for certain.

"Then you need to try harder," her father said, the warmth in his voice fading. "No emotion. You can't feel anything. Conceal it."

"Don't feel it," the now twelve-year-old finished with a sigh.

"Don't let it show."

"I know."

The king turned to leave. "I'll leave you to practice, then. Leave the gloves off for a bit and try to control it. Don't frost anything over."

"I know," she repeated. The door clicked shut behind him.

Elsa looked down at her bare hands. Could she really do it? She'd never lasted more than a few seconds, but it was important. She had to get it right. She picked up one of her textbooks, which was frozen solid in less than six seconds. The next attempt with a candelabra lasted seven. Four with a pen.

Elsa grew frustrated, and the air around her chilled. With a sigh of disappointment she flopped down on the floor and stared up at the ice crystals forming on the ceiling. She laid there for a while until there was a sudden sharp rapping on the door.

No gloves, she decided. She was going to open the door without the gloves.

She did just that, and was surprised when there wasn't an adult looming over her like usual. Glancing down, Elsa nearly screamed out loud at what she saw.

Anna.

* * *

><p><strong>AN:**

**So it occured to me mid-production of this chapter that my ideas only really extended through the main plot of the movie, and until I reach that point I have no idea what the hell I'm doing. Please pardon the bullshit, hurried backstories until we finally get to the interesting bits.**

**On another note, there have been quite a lot of wight!Anna fics popping up lately, haven't there? The fact that this one seems to be the most popular is actually really amazing to me, thank you!**


	4. Chapter 4

Elsa felt her heart pounding in her throat as she looked down at the spirit of her sister. She backed away quickly, keeping her eyes on it, and Anna curiously didn't step over the threshold. She remained standing at the doorway, with a fixed stare at Elsa and an unnervingly wide smile.

It was the closest the princess had ever been to the wight, and she noticed details she had never paid attention to before. Anna's eyes were a chilling shade of ice-blue, not unlike Elsa's own, and lacked the warmth they'd held in life. Her skin was so deathly pale Elsa could almost count the veins underneath, and the white streak in her hair from that fateful night seemed to have widened and spread over her hair. Anna's dress was torn and caked with dirt, as were her fingers and nails.

Like she'd clawed her way out of her grave.

As Elsa watched, too afraid to move, Anna finally stepped into the room. Ice formed under her bare feet as she went.

"It's real warm out today," she said innocently. "I hate it. We should make it cold, Elsa." Anna cupped her hands and a few shards of ice and a burst of snow flew upward. "I can make things cold now, just like you."

"Don't," Elsa whispered. "Don't come near me."

Anna kept advancing. Almost sick with panic, Elsa forced herself to move. She was bigger than the wight, and faster, so she summoned up her meager courage and darted past Anna into the hall.

She ran as fast as she could down the hall, paying no attention to where she was going or what was happening on the way. The pattering of small feet behind her spurred her on and, without thinking, Elsa reached behind her and sent a spray of ice down the hall.

The footsteps halted and she ran further, into hallways Anna had rarely visited. Maybe she could get it lost and sneak back to her room and never open the door again. However, when Elsa rounded the corner and saw Anna standing just a few yards away, she choked back a scream and blasted a wall of ice separating her and the wight before turning and running in the direction she had come.

"Elsa!" the wight called after her, "Play with me!"

Elsa ran until her lungs burned, in and out of rooms and hallways and passages in-between, always haunted by the pattering of a child's bare feet on the wooden floor. Frost followed too, forming under her as she went, coating the carpets and walls. She didn't give any thought to where she went or what she did, and only stopped her flight when she suddenly crashed into someone tall and sturdy.

"Elsa?"

She looked up and felt her blood run cold. Her father stood before her, coming back from a council meeting no doubt. The king looked down at her, then behind her to the ice-coated hall. His face contorted from confusion to shock to anger.

"Elsa, what have you done?"

"I-I..."

He grabbed her roughly by the arm, towing her down the hall without another word. Elsa looked behind her. Though she dared not say anything about it, she could see the wight peeking around the corner behind her, with those piercing blue eyes and a chilling smile.

* * *

><p>The Queen stood and watched her husband pace around their room, muttering to himself and gesturing erratically. Occasionally he would turn to her as though he wanted to say something, but in the end he would shake his head slightly and go back to what he was doing. The Queen didn't appreciate being left out of his thought process; they were husband and wife, two monarchs in partnership, and most importantly they were both Elsa's parents.<p>

Elsa was in her room, with the door locked. The king had only barely contained his rage at seeing the wintery halls, and he ordered their daughter to seclude herself, then servants to clean up the mess, after swearing them to silence.

"Christian."

He didn't pay her any attention, and turned sharply on his heel to begin pacing the other direction.

"Christian!" she snapped. "Shall I send for some of the help, or our daughter, if you'd like someone to ignore?"

King Christian's quiet ramblings ceased and he finally turned to face his wife. His hair was mussed from running his hands through it and his eyes were wild and stressed.

"What is it?" he asked irritably. "I'm trying to think, Tarja."

"And Lord knows where that has gotten us," Tarja answered. "Making decisions on your own has brought nothing trouble, and so I would hope that you would include me in the process if we want any hope at all."

Christian sighed heavily and rubbed his eyes. "I...apologize. What do we do?"

Her anger dissipating into worry, Tarja sunk down into a chair. "It's gotten worse. Ice all over the halls and she's still seeing that nightmare, even during the day. The staff are definitely going to ask questions about this, after today."

"Maybe we should limit them more. Get rid of a few and swear the remaining to absolute secrecy." He frowned, and hesitated before continuing, "And we should also think about what will happen if...her curse doesn't stop growing. It may be that Elsa will never get control of it, and is unfit to be queen after all."

"And what do you propose we do in that case?"

Christian buried his face in his hands. "I don't know. I don't know! How did we get stuck with this? We've been law-abiding, God-fearing people. What have we done to be cursed with this? Look what's become of our lives!"

"Self-pity isn't going to get us anywhere. We're not the ones with the curse, Elsa is, and as her parents it's our job to support her and try to help her through this."

Queen Tarja crossed her arms and stared at the mess that was her husband. He used to be a kind, collected man, loving to his children and wife. After the accident (Tarja refused to refer to it as anything else) he'd grown distant and stern. Christian had been very close to Anna, she knew, and the child's death had hit him particularly hard. The effects of it were taking their toll on him even now, four years later. Tarja dearly wished to put the past behind them, to love and cherish the happy memories with Anna and reconnect with Elsa, who was growing more detached and unsettled by the day. Despite their dangerous nature, the queen didn't really believe Elsa's powers were evil. Misguided, perhaps, but not given in punishment.

She wanted to help Elsa. She wanted her family back. Christian, however, found it difficult to even look at his eldest daughter some days. It was driving Tarja mad, especially after he'd acted towards Elsa today. The princess would likely be punished-as would any child who made a mess in the castle halls!-but lashing out at her for something she couldn't yet control wouldn't solve the problem. Elsa's issues were founded on fear, Tarja figured, and treating them with fear and anger itself wouldn't stifle them, only cause them to grow.

"We must have done something," Christian muttered. It was as though he hadn't heard a word she said. "If the Lord had nothing to do with it...perhaps something from the old stories. This isn't natural, it's wicked, like fairy tale magic."

"Determining the cause won't help anything either," Tarja said.

"What will you have me do?" You want to be involved, you give me something." He jumped up and resumed his pacing. "I am loathe to return to the trolls, not after what little help they gave us _last _time. Still... They knew quite a bit about the magic. Maybe they gave it to her?"

"I'm more inclined to believe fairies came down from the North Mountain in a deliberate attempt to wreck havoc on our family," his wife declared. "The trolls have always been peaceful. What reason would they have for this?"

"Fairies," the king repeated, his eyes gleaming. Tarja wondered if he'd gone quite mad. He choked out a high-pitched laugh. "Perhaps that's it. We have a changeling daughter, and the real one was stolen away in the night, leaving us with this..._this_..."

Witch. Monster. Abomination. Murderer. Christian didn't say any of those things, but Tarja could see them forming on his lips. Hot fury coursed through her and she strode up to her husband and slapped him across the face. He stumbled back, one hand on his reddening cheek.

"How dare you," Tarja spat, her voice a near whisper. "How dare you even suggest that the girl tormented in her room is anything less than a human, with real emotions and fears. She's scared, Christian, as am I, and if she were anything less than our child and Anna's sister-"

"Do _not _bring her into this-"

_ "I hear her too!" _Tarja yelled. "I see you thinking Elsa's deluded and insane, having nightmares about her sister and being convinced she can hear her running around talking to her, but so do I! I'm just as haunted! I wish every day, with all my heart, that Anna wasn't dead! But all the wishing in the world isn't going to bring her back. What's done is done, and all we can do is keep moving forward."

Christian stared with the eyes of a dead man. "It was her fault. Elsa's. She killed my little girl. I hear her screaming every night in my sleep."

He truly did blame Elsa, then. Tarja saw there wasn't anything she could do to change that. He was convinced of her guilt.

She gathered herself. "Be that as it may, the fact remains that nothing will change, as I said. We need to focus on the now. Elsa's power is getting stronger. If it could cause the death of a small child without control when she was young, what could happen now? Or when she's older? We're lucky all she did today was freeze the halls. What do we do?"

The king didn't answer. He collapsed back in his seat and stared blankly at his hands.

_ "What do we do?" _Tarja demanded.

There was a long, tense pause.

"I...have an idea." Christian swallowed. "But you won't like it."

* * *

><p><strong> AN:**

** (Yeah yeah I know the king and queen technically have names but they're complicated and I can't find the tumblr post right now so we're going to stick with Christian and the name of the former lead singer of my favorite Finnish metal band because shut up that's why.)**

** Anyway yeah if the quality of this chapter seems disproportionate to the amount of time it took me to write it, that's because it is. On another note, can I ask everyone how they came across this story? I'm curious. Thanks! After this chapter we can get to the good stuff. I'm slowly but surely making my way towards the main plot of the movie. **


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